Dishonor
by Lord StarScream
Summary: The Great War has raged for millions of years, ravaging the world of Cybertron and pitting its people against each other in a war that has drenched the surface of their home in blood. Starscream, an honorable soldier forced to choose a side, will make an epic journey plagued with tragedy. Will he become a savior, or a monster? Mostly canon characters, with some OC's.
1. Chapter 1

_**Dishonor**_

_**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, or the fantastically awesome universes that gave birth to them. All rights belong to Hasbro and Microsoft. **_

_Prologue_

_UNSC_

_Office of Naval Intelligence _

_Section III_

_Login accepted…._

_Searching for requested material._

…

…_._

_WARNING. RESTRICTED MATERIAL. TOP SECRET. EYES-ONLY CLASSIFICATION._

… _Appropriate evidence of sufficient clearance has been accepted. _

_FILE ENCRYPTED: ULTRA-VIOLET DELTA-SIX_

_DECRYPTION KEY: BRAVO-WHISKEY-SEVEN_

_From: Rear Admiral Davin Leland_

_Subject: Civil-war of the newly identified alien species 'Cybertronians'_

_Summary:_

_This report is part of an ongoing investigation, utilizing experimental versions of recovered Forerunner translation software to decipher the complex Cybertronian language that traditional methods have proved ineffective at accomplishing, to discover the truth wrapped inside of what is being called the Starscream Record. Recovery of information from various sources predominantly related to this individual have led to the decision of the name becoming official._

_Chronicling his involvement in events leading up, during, and after the conclusion of the aeons-spanning civil war waged between the Decepticons and the Autobots will shed some light on their motives of today. Other notable figures feature quite prominently which allows us to gain insight into them as well. (Some argue that hostilities continue under the Decepticon Separatists) _

_This race of alien life-forms, giant machines with the capability to transform into any vehicle they catch a good look at, has raised some alarm among members of ONI and the UNSC Security Committee when they first appeared through the Rift. What we are hoping to achieve through the examination of these files is an understanding of who we are dealing with._

_The project is under examination and being pursued with all due urgency, as the recent situation continues to escalate, any useful data will be of great value. And —** __**REDACTED** - - —** REDACTED****_

_**INFORMATION ABOVE TOP SECRET. **_

_Processing…additional decryption code accepted._

_*And the possibility of Flood infestation escaping from/through the Rift may warrant the deployment of Spartans. NOVA bomb requisition has been approved. God speed, people. _

_Translator's Note: This Forerunner software is still light-years ahead of us, and actually seems to adjust itself to the reader species and personal experience, inserting references that the reader will understand if a direct translation can't be made between the original script and the target language. _

_** Summary ends here**_

_**Chapter One**_

_Many cycles ago…_

Starscream observed the glittering surface of Cybertron from his place out in the stars with a fierce longing that refused to be dampened. Only transparent panels of duraglass that formed the outward facing wall of the passage kept the infinite blackness of the void at bay.

It reminded him of the day he arrived, a Lieutenant fresh out of the Iacon Military Academy on a drop ship with no one telling him its destination, so many years ago. Being sent to a quiet post on one of the planet's twin moons hadn't seemed that bad to him. Station Arretium had become old long he'd craned his neck to look in wonder at the starry sea that danced around them. Though he'd nearly been drummed out of the service during his time at the Academy for insubordination and disorderly conduct, Starscream had finished at the top of his class.

An old soldier by the name of Magnobolt had found the troubled, but promising young officer before taking it upon itself to become the young bot's mentor. After beating some sense into him, anyway. He grinned at the memory of the grizzled old man roaring at him alongside the other new recruits. A terror whose mere presence had inspired anyone in the proximity to charge headlong into live fire rather than tempt his wrath. His reverie was interrupted when Jetfire loudly set foot on the catwalk, the ringing reverberating throughout the observation deck. "The address is starting. Come on, you know this gonna be fun to watch."

Starscream laughed. "The High Council solving a problem? I'll believe that the day somebody finds the Matrix." Turning to greet his comrade, both of them clasped forearms warmly. Despite not having seen any serious action, the Seeker had no doubt that Jetfire would be able to look out for himself in a fight.

"Oh, ye of little faith."

"Shut up."

Making their way towards the elevator from where his friend had only recently emerged from, his friend suddenly lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. "Do you think this will be it? Will they change?" They were alone so Starscream just smiled bitterly.

"They're more likely to drag us into a civil war. If anyone is stupid enough to start one, which I'm not doubting, then I bet it would go on damn well near _forever_. There isn't a Cybertronian alive who's seen combat besides those gladiators or the odd riot here and there." He took a breath as he punched in the code that would take them to the level that contained the heart of all operations on the otherwise barren rock. "Why would they change anything? Right now, everything plays in their favor. Primus forbid any of them remember that serving the people is what they were put there to do in the first place."

Starscream regretted the harshness of his words, but he knew that Jetfire knew him too well to take offense. Politics was a sore subject with him and he avoided any discussion of it like the plague. Things had fallen into such a sorry state that the mere mention of the High Council and its Senatorial underlings achieving anything of significance sounded like a bad joke.

Despite that, he had found a sliver of hope. What was happening today was unlike anything the world of Cybertron had seen in countless ages. Two representatives of the commoners had actually been summoned to a meeting in the Senate Hall Gama Complex that sat in the very center of Iacon City. Tapping Jetfire on the shoulder, he said, "I'm just a cynical scrap heap. Don't listen to me." Starscream felt that his friend deserved that much from him.

Before he could reply the doors hissed open in front of them to allow the senior officers of the small lunar garrison entry onto level 17-C. It housed, among other things, the Command Center for Station Aurretium that either controlled everything from incoming transmissions to the temperature of the reactors that powered the shielding that protected it from harm. Only two doorways lead into this vital area, and fittingly was heavily guarded. Armored stalls extended outward from the wall, inside of which three soldiers stood with large rifles in front of a dimly glowing screen.

Though seemingly flimsy, the booth had been rated to withstand the force of an anti-tank grenade. Recognizing their commanding officers, the energy barrier was deactivated to admit them into the CIC. Around them, on more than a dozen liquid crystal plasma displays, live feeds blazed with images fed to them from the planet which was streamed throughout the station.

Nobody wanted to miss the big show. A brief chorus of "Officer on deck!" accompanied by crisp salutes filled the interim as the procession of delegates slowly filed through the grand entrance to the Central Government building. Over the years, the High Council had become more concerned with celebrating its status, over the years bogging down any semblance of governance with countless ceremonies that held no actual importance. It was telling that many now considered these pompous declarations more critical than even pretending they were leading the people.

Rites that, as Starscream observed with irritation, were further delaying the beginning of the greatly advertised meeting between peasants and kings. Several feeds zoomed in on a pair of rather simply adorned bots, sticking out like sore thumbs amidst the sea of gaudily dressed nobles who surrounded them.

The Representatives. Making the long walk along the richly crimson carpet with golden filigree dancing along the edges, they approached the vaulted gate that led within. One of them looked like a gentle soul who'd lived a quiet life inside the confines of a sheltered existence. His companion, however…that one was larger, thicker about the chest, with the scars of a veteran gladiator illustrating a life full of pain and struggle. He must have killed hundreds, even thousands, simply for the right to breathe another day.

Together, they came before the Senate and High Council of Cybertron to talk them into remembering the duties the duties they'd sworn to uphold.

Soon, the view was switched to a point somewhere inside, with a lone podium having been erected at the center of the vast domed chamber for the 'honored guests'. Isolated. This didn't deter the gladiator from striding ahead of his friend, who looked momentarily surprised, in a brazen display of confidence. Without preamble, he said, "I am Megatron, and I speak for the oppressed people of Cybertron! For too long you've sat in your gilded cages, slaves to your own greed and corruption." Gasps filled the air at the boldness of the insult.

_Right to the point, eh? Interesting. _This was going to be fun.

"Do you not care for the suffering of your people? The weak cry out for their leaders to aid them! Things have fallen to the point where bots like me must murder our brothers just so we can stay alive. I've been told you gave us this hearing so that we can plead our case." A cold laugh escaped him. "We are not pleading for ourselves, or just for our friends. Our kin have chosen us to speak for them. It is on their behalf that my companion and I have come here today. You must do what you were elected to do, and lead _us_!"

Hushed whispers quickly filled the air as the haughty bots recovered from their shock. _Who is foolish enough to challenge us _here_? _They wondered mutely. Chests were puffed out, a good number snorting derisively, _this has to be a joke_. Others were less sure.

The relative quiet was shattered when a voice said, "Why should we listen to you? The, ahem, _people,_" the word dripping with disdain, "are clearly satisfied with the current state of affairs. Are you sure this isn't a personal trip, scum?"

Megatron turned to his opponent, who quailed as the deathly cold smile he turned on him melted through the false bravado. Sinking into his chair muttering an apology, the bot tried to wriggle out from under the gladiator's merciless glare. "I've had to fight every day of my life since I could walk, just so that I could keep it. I'd agree that I am scum, but I understand the problems we face a lot better than you do."

"It's a sad day when _I _am the kind of bot they turn to in times like these. All of you should be ashamed." He pointed an accusatory finger at the assemblage, and swept it over the rest of them. "From the time I was old enough to know about the world, you've lied to us. You said that you would keep us safe, to serve us, and help us make a better future than today. What you've done is disgrace us all, disgrace the _soul_ of Cybertron!" His words rang throughout the hall with an undisguised anger, restraint evident in his bearing as that piercing gaze swept across the Senators.

"Do any of you have the strength to repair the damage you have wrought?"

Only one of them rose to his challenge. It was a voice of wisdom, sounding as if rusty metal at rest for so long was grinding to life once more. "You may be right gladiator."

As a single mind the Senate turned to regard the old bot who had risen from his seat to stand and answer the impassioned cries of Megatron. With shock they realized it was one of the High Council, the Lord Protector himself, who stood inside of the small balcony fringed with gold and green. "But what would you do to help our people? Do you possess the qualities, the strength of will, to lead them through the trials we face? You can't fix the system if you don't try to -"

Megatron cut him off. "Your system is broken. If you can't see that, then maybe it was a mistake to come here in the first place."

With that, he departed the chamber without another word. His large frame lent a powerful echo as each of the heavy footfalls hitting the thin path that would lead out into the open air, away from the perturbed Senators. The bot who'd faded from the common perception reminded the world he existed when he, as his companion departed, stepped up to the podium. As he composed himself, it seemed the silence that currently reigned would stretch into eternity before anyone made a sound.

Finally, he said, "August and honored members of the Senate and High Council," his pitch low and respectful, his penetrating eyes catching the few who flinched as he began to speak, "I hope you can forgive my friend's brash comments. We _did _come here to figure out if we could, in fact, save this government from collapsing upon itself before the system fails. Make no mistake, it is falling apart every day, every hour we stand here and debate the finer points of who is qualified to lead us." Starscream noted his calm and measured demeanor soothe those who'd shied away from the unrestrained anger of Megatron. "My name is Orion Pax. I am librarian at the Iacon Archives that are just a few kilometers from where I stand."

Pausing to take a breath, he shook his head ruefully. "In the past several months I have co-founded a movement to give our people a spark of hope, to show them that we are committed to finding a solution. That we are here to haul them back from the edge of the abyss that we are teetering on the edge of." The kind voice hardened. "The provosts that are meant to keep the peace terrorize and extort the citizens of our greatest cities, even _here in Iacon!, _whilst our military has been reduced to so few but pretty [wind-up toys] to face any real threat that might come against us wouldn't be more than a joke.

"Most of you haven't given a thought to anything but yourselves in so long the concept to you is as alien as the life our ancestors encountered exploring the cosmos so many cycles ago. Our followers range across all sections of our fractured society, and they want the justice that has so long been denied them. Will you deny them?" The question struck like a thunderbolt, and left all of them speechless.

Orion possessed a gravitas that demanded respect despite his youth. Starscream could see the fire that had burned in Megatron just as clearly in the bright gaze that met every stare with complete faith in his own truth. As he prepared to leave, he stopped to make one last remark. "This government is weak, and I promise you if no action is taken there will be consequences beyond anything we can imagine. Please heed this warning…for it is the last one we will give you."

No one knew how to respond to the implied threat. Jetfire muttered under his breath, "Revolution? No way." The summit had exceeded the Seeker's expectations, but for something just didn't sit right with him. He was down there, even though Starscream had asked him not to go, and a [pit] started to form in his gut.

There was something wrong, something out of _place_. He decided to place a call to encourage an early exit from the building when an eerie sense of destiny gripped him, forcing him to watch the last of the feeds as the others slowly shut down. Winding down from the tensest session of the Senate in who knew how many cycles, and the network was eager to squeeze every last drop from of coverage from it. "So, Senator Ratbat, what did you think about the, eh, visitors you had today?" asked a reporter eagerly.

Ratbat huffed. "Those two are dangerous, but I think that 'librarian' if that's what he really is, is the one we need to watch out for. The gladiator was angry and confused, and he was probably overwhelmed by the _majesty _of his surroundings!" He said, pointing a portly arm that shone with implanted platinum to display his wealth. "That other one, as I said, he was threatening us! With an uprising, I believe that one's planning something—"

Somehow, everyone knew. Additional news casters had come to give their own opinions as they interviewed members of the Senate as they filed out of Gamma Complex, and by chance each of them had the background of the old symbol of Cybertronian democracy glittering in the sunlight. These multiple points of view provided excellent portrait of the historic structure.

At the very same moment, as if a law so basic that it found itself written in the will of the cosmos, every Cybertronian fell silent. They knew of no danger. Yet, for an instant, terror seized them.

That moment would be scarred into the racial memory of those who witnessed its horror. For at that moment, as Starscream went rigid, as a second sun was born in the heart of Iacon. Rending the great work of the Last Primes to dust, a wall of flame, smoke, and debris came rushing towards each of the cameras before the broadcasts were cut off.

No one moved. Jetfire finally mustered the will to say something, anything. "Get that feed back online." His order had been to no one in particular. All of them continued to be transfixed by the white noise that had taken over the screens. "I said get that damn feed back online!"

Snapping out of catatonia, several of them began to slowly return to normal. One operator of a communication channel kept trying to properly tune in the dials and give the security codes, but her hands were shaking too badly. Only then did it occur to Station Arretium's executive officer that its commander was no longer there. "Oh scrap." Jetfire whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

Dishonor

_**Chapter Two**_

__ Starscream couldn't think. The image was seared into his memory, and a dark rage he'd never known he possessed threatened to overwhelm him. Everyone else in the control room was stunned into total silence, so quiet that he could hear the gentle hum of the power nodes that studded the walls. Desperately attempting to reassert some control over himself, Starscream said as calmly as he could manage, "Corporal, I want you contact High Command on the surface immediately, we need a sit-rep. Jetfire, upgrade the threat level from Level 5 to Level 2. _Move it!_"

With the horrifying silence shattered by their commander issuing orders in a firm tone that showed he was still in charge, everyone started returning to normal. Many shook their heads as if recovering from a daze. After he was sure that his presence was no longer necessary, the Seeker slipped away from the Control Center to make his way deeper into the installation. He _had _to make sure it was secure. If they could pull of something like that in the middle of Iacon, then nowhere was safe. Alarms began to screech and soldiers jogged in orderly fashion to the armory to receive weapons before reporting to the outer defenses to bring everything up to maximum readiness.

Through corridors, down elevators, and increasingly heavy security measures, Starscream finally arrived. In the center of a small chamber deep in the heart of Aurretium, delicately suspended by antigravity in a macrosteel container, was a shard of malevolently glowing Dark Energon. Violet rays shed by the gently rotating crystal caused Starscream to be uncomfortable. It was like a splinter digging into his skin that he couldn't remove or ignore that constantly put him on edge.

"Thank the Primes that's still here," said a shaken voice from behind him. Starting slightly, Starscream still grinned despite himself. Only a handful of personnel had access to this place and it wasn't hard to recognize who had followed him down. "Whoever attacked the Senate will be coming for this, I bet."

"Heh…Nobody besides us knows this still exists. The Old Senate was smart enough to make this thing disappear from the records and tell everybody it had vanished from the face of [the Earth]." After all, why would anyone look for something didn't exist anymore? Coming up beside him, Jetfire shuddered.

Starscream felt a little guilty for mocking the Senators after what had just happened, but he quickly pushed the thought from his mind. He couldn't think about that right now. He'd lose the thin grip on sanity he already he'd managed to keep after watching the Gamma Complex erupt. It threatened to push him into a dark place he'd never known before and that frightened him. "That toxic scrap would poison Cybertron. It would feed on it for a while, just like a parasite, before it takes too much and kills her."

They'd been told by the small group of scientists who maintained the special containment unit that the light it generated it was harmless. It still had the effect of breeding discomfort in all those exposed to the Dark Energon. Something about it just seemed…evil.

Jetfire grimaced and said, "We weren't able to raise Command. Static tried all the open and encrypted channels we know, but it's a dead zone down there."

"What?" Cybertron's military, as corrupt and dilapidated as it was, still had some muscles to flex. The Praetorian Guard were the elite, and virtually the only effective fighting force that was still in service and loyal to the Senate. Their main base in Iacon's outer districts also served as the headquarters for the High Command. "Primus… if the Praetorians get wiped out, the Senate is finished."

Jetfire nodded, his face grim. "With the High Command sitting pretty with those glory boys, they'd be a target too tempting to pass up."

"Scrap it. We need to know if we can count on them or not, Jet. Without them we'll be on our own up here."

Though he looked unhappy about it, Jetfire agreed with him. Placing a hand on his shoulder, he said, "Nobody knows we're here, and the people who do are probably dead by now. But you're right, we need to do whatever we can to keep _this_," he gestured at the Dark Energon shard, "here. That, and you have other business down there." At that, Starscream looked away.

"Trust me, no one will think you're abandoning us. Now get a move on."

Doubtful though he'd been, Starscream smiled in thanks. "Alright. I'll be back as soon I can. We'll have a proper briefing when I return."

. . . . . .

For a very long time Starscream hadn't really cared about what kind of life he was destined for. He'd loathed poetry, had liked science but was only a mediocre scientist, and had been incredibly bitter until he discovered his alternate mode. Of all the bots who'd ever lived, he wasn't sure any of them had loved to fly as much as he did.

His lithe, nimble fighter had been gifted with such speed that he'd nearly plastered himself on the side of a cargo freighter leaving port as he shot through the sky his first time. Veras had been a small city, only a few hundred kilometers distant from its sister city of Iacon, with structures so tall they pierced the skies. These imposing sentinels shone brightly in the starlight, casting a warm glow on those who entered its bustling streets. Weaving between the tightly packed urban sprawl had been something that always got his spark beating faster as he became increasingly adept at maneuvering through tight corners and narrow spaces.

Shaking his head to break free of his reverie, Starscream forced himself to ignore his growing fear. Even though he'd only just entered the upper atmosphere he could already see the massive column of smoke from the detonation that had ravaged the Gamma Complex to leave a mortal wound in the heart of Cybertron's capital.

He'd told the fool not to go. Starscream thought it would be a waste of time, but before today he'd never thought anyone would do something as senselessly evil as what he'd seen. It had looked like it was going to be another publicity stunt that the Senators would spin to everyone else as proof that they were still actively engaged with solving the problems that faced them. Despite his low opinion of them, Starscream didn't think they deserved to be murdered. Prison, definitely. But this? That was a monster's way of changing the world.

Friction had built up along his wing tips, flames trailing behind him as he came within sight of the city. Suddenly, he picked up a spotty signal that he recognized as a military broadcast and tapped into it. A garbled voice spoke hurriedly, with a clamor washing out some of the words. "—May-day, may-day, we are under attack. Repeat, High Command is under att *—* Terrorists are *—* and well-armed. All available units please respond to this hail immediately…"

Starscream felt his heart harden. Pushing his turbines to their limit, he felt the darkness within him give voice to what he'd been feeling ever since that moment when he saw that blossom of light consume the one thing he cared about most in this world. _My brother is dead. I will have my vengeance on his killers, even if I have to kill them all myself. _While he tried to push it away, Starscream prayed he wasn't too late.

. . . . . .

On previous occasions when he'd been forced to visit the bastion of Cybertron's highest military authority, it always struck him as a decadent and uninspiring. Tall alabaster courtyards whose walls were chased with gold and platinum that bore grandiose murals of past glories. Drab walls of ferrocrete and steel surrounded these pretty little gardens, studded with bunkers and large towers that had fearsome turrets that would make any sort of assault a bloody business. That is, if anyone were manning them. All of them were conspicuously silent as the Seeker approached the outer boundary.

Now, all of it was burning. Great swathes of flame covered parts of the fortress, and a pall of black smoke hung over the grounds as bolts of energy crisscrossed with tracers from machine gun emplacements. Missiles rained down from the sky, and tanks tried to force their way through the sprawling courtyards, while in the middle of this hell were the remnants of the Praetorian Guard. Further behind the open areas lay a series of structures that nestled together in clusters, where the barracks and administrative offices lay.

Though they were largely holding firm in the face of this great assault, Starscream could see that one group of the enemy had penetrated all the way into the administrative complex. Picking up a local transmission, Starscream heard, "_Delta-Four is under heavy fire! We are pinned down in the Atrium, we need immediate assistance! Where the hell is that air support?_" Gunfire could be heard punctuating each sentence as the beleaguered Guardsmen tried to hold their position. "_Alpha platoon was wiped out, and we need reinforcements and some medics or the rest of us are gonna follow suit real soon. Command, do we retreat or hold position? Command, please respond!_"

Starscream clenched his teeth. As he'd closed in on the battle, monitoring the frequencies used by the Praetorians had yielded only static, and this lack of coordination confirmed his worst fears. Even the best soldiers were much less effective in battle if they weren't directed competently, and make them easy to pick off one by one against an enemy who had greater numbers. Without their officers to keep an eye on the battle around them, they were all just [sitting ducks]. It seemed that the generals and every other ranking Praetorian had left the others to their fate.

Hacking into the battle-net, what he saw wasn't good. The sensors, combined with the real-time information being fed into the network by the Guardsmen themselves, revealed how dire the situation had actually become. Gliding close to the ground to a sector heavily obscured by flames and smoke, Starscream made his landing and saw that he was close to the south-western corner of the complex. Other units were scattered throughout the entire facility as the right wing collapsed, while most in the center and the left flank appeared to be holding despite the tremendous pressure.

They were slowly being split up and isolated by the terrorist troops, and the Seeker cursed the bastards who'd left their men to die. Using debris as cover, he came close the Atrium without being spotted. Only a few hundred meters away he noted another squad hastily attempting to fortify the post they occupied with whatever they could find. Barking into their frequency, he said, "Echo Squad, what the scrap do you think you're doing?" _That ought to get their attention. _

Silence filled the link for several nanocycles. He got an answer as someone snarled, "_Who is this? This is an encrypted milit—"_

"I know, damn it! This is Commander Starscream and I'm assuming command of this operation and any Praetorians who're still functional. Is that understood?" He compressed his digital credentials and sent them to verify his identity.

A pause. Then, "_Yes sir. To answer your question, sir, we're getting ready for the next attack." _

"You don't need to worry about holding that position anymore. What's more important is that you flank the bots that have Delta pinned three hundred meters to the West of you. How many you got?"

"_Seventeen, sir. Three of them wounded, and the rest are no longer with us." _Starscream grimaced. He shared that bitterness he felt in the bot's calm report.

"What's your name, soldier?"

"_Sergeant Stormclaw, sir._"

"We need to regroup with as many of the other Praetorians as we can, and try to establish some momentum and drive these scrap heaps out. There are other squads cut off in the vicinity that need our help." Waiting a sparkbeat for the message to sink in, he asked, "Do you know whose attacking this facility?"

"_Not yet, sir. We'll be moving out in five [mikes]. Would you mind telling me what small miracle conjured you up? Showin' up out of the blue was mighty kind of ya." _The message was polite but clear: Echo Squad would be staying put until he answered to Stormclaw's satisfaction.

Starscream was glad of the question. This one was smart, and making sure his answers matched the codes on his dossier to avoid being lead into a trap by the insurrectionists. With the kind of hardware he'd seen them using, it was clear this was an operation that had been planned for many cycles before its brilliant execution. Painstakingly smuggling in the explosives and weapons must have taken years to avoid alerting the authorities.

As he watched Echo squad's icon start making its way towards him, and Delta, Starscream edged closer before taking cover behind a ruined façade of one of the Primes leading Cybertronians to victory over some ancient foe. "_Big mess is what we've got here, sir. Sorry that you're the one whose got to clean it up._" Said the Sergeant feelingly. His brash tone had softened after he accepted that Starscream was there to help them.

Grinning, he replied, "It won't just be me, Stormclaw. All of us are going to fix this. If it was just me, we'd all be better off as scrap heaps anyway. You copy?"

He heard a short chuckle in response. "_Copy, Commander._"

Marking out a curtain wall that shielded the advancing Praetorians from view, Stormclaw acknowledged the order as he moved his squad into position. Starscream could hear the intense firefight raging only a few dozen meters from where he was, and contained his rage at the thought of good bots dying to those worthless scum.

"_We're ready and willing, sir. Where are you?_"

"I'm just forty meters to the East of you, Sergeant. We'll catch the bastards by surprise, but I want to do a little recon first so stay put until I tell you to move. Delta won't last much longer without us."

"_Roger that, sir._"

. . . . . .

Starscream crawled as quietly as he could manage, with the mass of shattered statuary, fallen barricades, and splintered masonry providing him plenty of cover. As soon as he passed the façade's edge, he saw the furious firefight raging in front of him. There had been obsidian columns inscribed with the names of fallen soldiers neatly arrayed here, now they lay smashed apart by missiles and plasma canons.

One slab of the scorched rock lay close to him, while other fragments lay scattered about in front of the atrium where the terrorists who skillfully traded fire with the entrenched Delta Squad. It had been a brutal contest, with corpses littering the ground from both sides. But the advantage had shifted in the attackers favor as they slowly advanced from cover to cover, pushing the remaining Praetorians back. He counted at least two dozen of them.

Just as he was about to ask Stormclaw where he was, a crisp, "_We're at the coordinates, sir. Just say the word._"

"There's about two squads of them, Sergeant. Think you can handle that?"

A growl preceded his response. "_It would be my genuine pleasure, sir._"

Taking a deep breath, Starscream drew his officer's saber and a small plasma rifle with three quarters of a charge left in its coils that he'd scavenged from the debris. Starscream's pulse increased in frequency. Here he was, a totally inexperienced bot, leading troops into combat. There was a swarm of killers who'd extinguish his spark the first chance they got, if he let them, only a short distance away.

"Attack!" The cry cut through the copious amount of gunfire for just a moment and a mutual pause ensued as confusion washed over the combatants. Then, the terrorists were startled when a bot burst from behind cover, _behind _them, with an Energon-curdling battle cry at full sprint. For a handful of nanocycles, all they could do was stare at him with open mouths and widened optics.

Just as he'd hoped, not one of them were looking the other way as Echo Squad blasted a gaping hole in the wall that blocked them before blasting their foes with an [earth]-shattering fusillade. A sparkbeat later, the stunned survivors of Delta rejoined the fight with a vicious salvo of their own, ripping those who'd been about to finish them off to shreds. Six bots were suddenly cut down, a few being outright blown to bits.

_Eighteen left_.

Sharpshooters from Echo loosed a volley, killing three more bots who hadn't been able to scuttle back into cover quite fast enough.

_Fifteen left_.

Even as time started to slow, Starscream pumped his legs harder than he'd ever run before in his life. He had to close the distance before they recovered, or he'd be cut to ribbons out in the open. One of them remembered the threat from the rear, and decided to meet the Seeker halfway, charging out to meet him while Trans-readying a wickedly sharp glaive that crackled along the edges. It was unfortunate that Starscream didn't get to explain that melee was the type of ground combat at which he excelled. Otherwise, it might have been a fair fight.

As his opponent drew his arm back for an overhead swing, Starscream didn't slow down and crashed into the bot with all the force and grace of a run-away freight transport, sending them both sprawling in the dust. His plasma rifle clattered out of his hand, but he kept a firm enough grip on his blade so that it stayed with him.

Jumping to his feet, he dodged past a sloppy slice aimed at taking off his left arm, and ran the dazed bot through the chest before he had a chance to take another swing. Ripping his sword out and snatching a grenade from the belt of the dying bot, he thumbed the activation pad before lobbing it at the nearest clutch of the vermin cowering beside another of the fallen columns. All four of them were extinguished in a fiery ball of energy and shrapnel. Now that they were cornered, one of them panicked and tried to run, receiving a round between his should blades for his trouble.

_Nine left. _

A brace of bots from Echo Squad, having used up their limited stocks of ammo, decided to imitate the crazy Seeker, and charge the last of the attackers. Starscream joined in, narrowly avoiding death several times, only for one of his newfound comrades to intervene and see that he saw another dawn. After a minicycle, the last of them were dead.

Starscream looked towards the smoking Atrium. "Delta, you alive in there? Any seriously wounded?"

"Only walking wounded. The rest didn't make it." He winced at the grateful, but desponded response. Counting the number of Praetorian bodies helped him understand just a little of what the bots of Delta felt. These had been their comrades, and they'd been slaughtered by an enemy they hadn't ever thought to be prepared for.

Emerging into the sunlight, a slim, golden bot with purple trim that had long since lost its luster came forward with an exhausted look to his face. "Thank you. I thought that was gonna be the end for us."

"Don't mention it. Sergeant Stormclaw, see if your medics can't help them out." Stormclaw nodded, motioning for them to examine the battered survivors of Delta-Four. He only counted seven troopers who limped out to meet their rescuers.

Starscream felt angry. It wasn't just a personal vendetta now. They would pay for all they had done. Checking the tactical display, he saw that the terrorists were beginning to breach the main lines of resistance that had been holding up their advance into the main complex. Other units were nearby, and with the beginnings of a strike force, he felt like they might be able to punch a hole in the noose that was forming around the last of the Praetorians. The only victory here would be survival and escape to fight another day.

Calling Stormclaw over, he asked, "Sergeant, how long 'till we're ready to move again?"

"Just a [minute] or two, sir. The lads are just scavenging some ammo and finishing up patching Delta's hurt. Where are we off to next?"

"We can't help with the main fight, that's been a lost cause since this thing started. What we _can _do is get as many survivors as we can, and find an exit before those bastards hunt us down. Then I'll have a chance to figure out what the hell is really going on here."

Stormclaw's brow knitted, optics focusing on tiny glint that he'd only seen for a moment. Kneeling down, he found a small badge that lay next to one of the fallen terrorists. Flipping it over, he saw a crimson face. "Find something interesting?"

Frowning, he stood up and showed it to Starscream. "Never seen this before."

Though he felt a vague sense of recognition, he couldn't place the strange little symbol either. "Some form of identification, I'd guess, but that's the best I can do."

Pocketing it, he turned to his commander and saluted sharply. Raising an eyebrow, Starscream said, "Time to move out, I think. Let's get a move on before our friends show up and finish the job."

Stormclaw grinned. "Ah, but we have you now, sir. They don't."

He laughed. "Get on with it already." As the bot trotted away to assemble the others, the Seeker was alone with his thoughts for the first time in what had felt like an eternity. He knew he should feel lucky, thankful even. But for some reason, he just felt an impending sense of dread. Deep down in his spark, Starscream knew this was only the beginning.


	3. Chapter 3

Dishonor

_**Chapter Three**_

When he raised his fist, nearly sixty bots came to a halt just behind Starscream. These were all the Praetorians they had managed to gather in the face of the advancing terrorist horde, while reaping a fearsome tally amongst those unfortunate enough to get in their way. Now Starscream knew the total collapse of organized resistance was imminent, and he regretted not being able to help, but they _had _to get out before it happened.

None of them were in any shape for a glorious last stand. Each and every one of them were bruised and battered from a long day of desperate combat that had driven them all to the limits of their endurance. Once they were out into the city it would be much easier to evade their pursuers.

After that, though, he had no idea what they were going to do. _Take them to Aurretium?_ Not all of them were flight-capable… They'd need a transport. Motioning to Stormclaw, the Seeker turned to face him with a curious look. "How long you been stationed here, Stormclaw?"

"I'd say about a hundred cycles, sir."

"So you know the area pretty well, then."

Nodding he asked, "Sure. What do you need to know?"

"We're going to need a transport to get off-world, back to my garrison. We'll be safe there."

"There _is _a local spaceport farther in the East district. Nothing like Hydrax out in the Badlands, but I'm sure we'll find a spare ship or two we can lay our hands on."

Barking at the others on the newly established comm channel, Stormclaw marshalled the others while Starscream briefed them on the plan. Gathering his band together, they made their way past the jagged ruins that marked where the imposing boundary walls had once stood. As they moved into eerily silent streets, a sense of unease began to grip Starscream. There were no frightened faces peeking out from behind shuttered windows or closed doors. Something just didn't feel right.

The weary Praetorians shared his disquiet and fingers rested lightly on triggers, trans-weaponry sweeping rooftops and alleys for targets. Where the hell did these people go?

Without having to give an order, everyone became quiet as the sounds of battle faded and they delved further into the city. One of the newest and fastest growing districts on the outskirts of Iacon had sprung up here with rows upon rows of freshly manufactured housing and shops lining the streets. Just as he was about to call out, the _crack! crack! crack! _of high caliber rifles caused him to drop into a crouch and draw his sword in the same movement. Frantically searching for the ambushers, it took a minicycle for him to realize they weren't being shot at.

Glancing behind him, he saw that the rest had scattered into what cover they could find and were just as confused as Starscream was. Stormclaw sidled up to him with a worried expression. "Sir, do you know what the slag is going on?"

Starscream shook his head. "No idea. We need to find the source of that racket, and avoid alerting them if it turns out to be our friends from back there so we can get the rest by undetected. Tell the others to stay here, then pick the two best scouts to come with us."

"Come with us?"

"Aye, Sergeant. We're going hunting."

"Understood, sir."

. . . . . .

The newcomers were Thundercracker, a hulking, violet bot, and Slipstream, slim of stature with dark green accented by a black trim. When they introduced themselves, Starscream couldn't resist asking, "This a bit out of character for you, I expect. You sure you can keep quiet Thundercracker?"

A forced smile was the only response he received. "You got nothing to worry about with me." From what he could tell, Thundercracker probably didn't smile very much.

Slipstream elbowed the larger mech. "This one wouldn't know a good joke if it shot him in the face with a null-ray. I can vouch for him as a scout though, Commander," She said cheerily.

"We'll have to work on that after we secure our escape. Any idea where those shots are coming from?" As if hearing his question, they heard the sharp reports of rifle fire echo around them. Even the echo seemed wrong, oddly distorted.

Slipstream frowned. "It sounds like its coming from somewhere relatively close by, maybe someplace a few levels below us. That wou—"

Snapping his fingers, Thundercracker said, "There's a crashball court that's near here that's underground. Definitely far enough below the surface to make that kind of distortion screwing with the echo."

"Alright, let's check it out before we head back. I need to know how much of a presence they've got here so we can be prepared."

Taking the lead, Starscream and his small recon team made their way through several blocks of equally deserted buildings until they finally reached their destination. Huge barred gates had once closed off the main entrance above ground, but they looked semi-melted, and curled inward from some kind of detonation. His previous unease tightening, Starscream entered behind the scouts, following as they probed deeper into the subterranean entertainment center.

Nearing the massive court where the aggressive sport was played to the usual rabid encouragement of thousands, signs of life reappeared. Smeared trails of Energon here, a fallen children's toy there. Floodlights around the arena had been switched on, illuminating the shadow filled corridors that honeycombed the area with a ghostly light and then they heard the harsh reports of before, the sharp _crack! crack! crack! _filling the air.

With the intense glare obscuring his optics, the Seeker slowly crept forward until they adjusted. Waiting a spark beat, then two, he peered over the edge of the railing in the upper tier. Then he felt his [blood] run cold.

"Oh Primus." None of the savagery he'd witnessed before that point couldn't match the sheer, overwhelming horror of what he saw. Words failed him. Starscream felt his resistance weaken, until the last traces of restraint finally faded away. Only one thought made itself known before he lost himself to the red sea that rose from the depths of his soul.

_ Why?_


End file.
